Salt Spring Island

This post's title was borrowed from River Garden Studio, the incredible Roxanne's most recent post. I just recognized it when I read it, because everything today has made me cry. Everything! I'm home sick for the second day, some wicked combination of migraine and a virus, ache ache ache and shivery. Blind in my right eye from the migraine. I tried to ward it off yesterday by mad cleaning, but this morning I awakened to a sink full of dishes (from the lovely dinner I found the energy to prepare last night), and yet another stack of laundry (after I washed, dried, folded & put away 11 loads yesterday). And now I can't figure out how to make the DVD player work on this stoopid new TV my bro-in-law gave us. Hysterical crying out on my patio roost (which, by the way, does absolutely NOTHING to help alleviate a migraine). It's all due to lack of energy and feeling so flattened. I know that, in my head. My heart? I don't know. We bought this (our first) house 11 years ago, in fix-er-up condition because it's all we could afford. And we've done a gynormous amount of fixing up, but it seems it's multiplied exponentially. Fix one thing, 5 more appear. And you know what the economy is like. And you know I've now got TWO boys in college. And you know what that does to money for things like starting, let alone finishing, projects. I'm so sensitive to my environment, too, it doesn't help matters. I like serenity and order with just a LITTLE chaos thrown in. Relatively clean rooms, relatively MOST of the time. A little light gleaming off a pretty (clean) table vignette ... but not the kitchen table living in the living room, and kitchen shelves & cabinet doors lined up against a wall and all over the patio, forever it seems, and our roof project still undone after three years and KNOWING how pressed for time Double BB is. I want a wand, so I can wave it and have a home that's 'done', that isn't an embarrassment or a financial burden anymore. Not saying fancy, not saying stainless steel appliances, not saying walk-in closets or three kinds of molding on the ceilings. Just FINISHED. Our way. But today I'll just cry at how little Ciera is in her kindergarten picture, her backpack almost as big as she is, and at Roxanne's gentle painting and the picture of the grasses on her post, and at the dirty dishes in the sink (that I can't muster myself to wash, just yet), but especially out of gratefulness to my little feline, Zoe, because even though the door to my studio is open, she has elected instead of 'freedom' to curl up in my lap, blinking at me with contented emerald eyes, purring so loud and hard my belly is vibrating, and making chocolate pawlet dough on my left leg while pushing her head against my left arm for more pets and chin-scratching. [Photos from Gallivant Saturday]